


First Day of My Life: Stir It Up

by Ride4812



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ride4812/pseuds/Ride4812
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Kudos: 29





	First Day of My Life: Stir It Up

Mickey always knew Ian was competitive. He figured it was because he had a prick for an older  
brother, and found it necessary to prove to Lip that he was just as good, if not better, than him at  
everything save academics. He also knew that the moment he stopped going hard and trying to  
beat him, Ian would call his ass out and whine like a bitch. So even though Mickey was  
completely uninterested in racing quads, he did it for Ian and attempted to win.

Swerving sharply so his wheels shot sand up at his fiancé, Mickey laughed at the angry growl Ian  
emitted and gunned it up the dune.

"You're a dirty motherfucker," Ian groused, once he caught up to Mickey and dismounted his  
quad. Tugging the bandana away from his mouth and letting it hang around his neck, he scowled  
at the brunet, who was unfazed by his animosity.

"Want to get burritos at Pollo Lucas?" Mickey asked, loosening his gear.

"Fuck you!" Ian exclaimed, kicking sand at the brunet, who preemptively rolled his eyes at the fit  
he knew his fiancé was about to pitch.

"Learn to lose like a winner, Gallagher," he suggested, reaching into his back pocket to pull out  
his squashed cigarette carton and lighter.

"I would if you actually won without cheating."

"Since when is a little sand spray cheating?" Mickey asked, as he took a drag of his cigarette. He  
couldn't help but laugh at the chin sticking out obstinately across from him.

"That's your go-to move."

"Then you should you be ready for it," he said easily, lifting his eyebrows at Ian. "Right."

"I hate you," Ian pouted, trying not to smile when Mickey moved closer to him.

"No you don't," he disagreed, his voice low and husky. He placed his thumb and index finger on  
his fiancé's chin and tilted his head up so he could slot their mouths together.

Intent on dominating the kiss, Ian shoved his tongue aggressively past Mickey's lips, kissing him  
hard enough to reflect his passion and irritation.

"I love you," Mickey whispered into the redhead's mouth, knowing just what it took to tame the  
savage beast. He placed a palm on Ian's scruffy cheeks and tilted his head so he could sink in  
deeper. His lips turned up at how ardently his lover was returning the affection; his hands grasping  
onto his ass as his body pressed fully against his.

"I love you," he promised, smiling when Mickey laid successive pecks onto his lips and gave his  
face a few taps to indicate he was done.

"I'm hungry."

"I'll give you something to eat," Ian flirted, pushing the bulge in his pants against Mickey's thick  
thigh.

"Don't think they're interested in seeing me suck your cock," he replied with a  
smirk, gesturing towards two guys around their age that were dismounting their quads a few yards  
away from them.

"Yeah, well, they're missing out then," Ian said, nuzzling his face in the crook of Mickey's neck  
and giving his ass a squeeze.

"Pinches maricones (fucking faggots)," one of the men muttered, causing Mickey to swing his  
head around, eyebrows raised high.

"What'd you say?" the brunet asked, tossing his cigarette to the ground, his fists clenched tight as  
he stared down the duo.

"C'mon," Ian cajoled before they could repeat the remark. Practically pushing his fiancé towards  
his quad, he glanced over his shoulder at the laughing men behind him. "Te diría que me beses el  
culo pero el ya lo hace (I'd tell you to kiss my ass but he already does it)," he called to them,  
puckering his lips for emphasis.

"Puto (bitch)," one of the guys shot back, prompting Mickey to attempt to stand up and Ian to hold  
his shoulder down.

"Not worth it," Ian said quietly. "You're hungry anyway."

Mickey humphed and pulled his bandana up, revving the engine as he waited for Ian to jump on  
his own quad so they could head back to their truck. He gave his fiancé a look that he easily read,  
leaving him chuckling while shaking his head.

Riding dangerously close to the homophobic men, Mickey made sure to abruptly change course,  
hurling sand at them before cutting straight to follow Ian down the dune. He smiled wide at their  
aggravated cries and threw his middle finger up to make sure they fully digested his sentiment.

"You're ready to fight?" Ian asked, guiding his ATV onto the trailer. "Because those pricks could  
ride down here in a minute and we'd have to fuck them up instead of destroying some carne asada  
burritos. I thought you were hungry."

"I mean, I'd rather eat, but I'll handle them if I have to," he replied, moving his quad forward so  
Ian could load it up.

"We're trying to teach Yevvy not to fight and we're gonna come home all beat up. How'll we  
explain that?"

Mickey scoffed. "We don't let them get one in."

Rolling his eyes, Ian tightened the straps and tossed the keys to Mickey.

"Why are we teaching him not to fight anyway? Who came up with that shit?"

"Wouldn't you rather he learn to use his words rather than his fists?" Ian asked, settling into the  
passenger seat as his fiancé started the F150. "Do better than we did?"

"Look at our lives, man," Mickey said with a grin, gesturing at the clear blue sky and palm trees  
beyond the window. "I think we did alright."


End file.
